


Glory and Gore

by rosievmc



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:47:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5164364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosievmc/pseuds/rosievmc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No-one ever expects radical change in their life, but when Matty wakes up and discovers she's a vampire she can't say that she's wholly surprised it happened to her of all people. Sid however, has been hoping for change for what feels like forever - can Matty be the one that helps her find it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** MATTY.**

I’d moved to Memphis about three months before it happened, and I’d been enjoying the southern lifestyle just fine. The people were almost unbelievably more friendly than any person you could ever find in the depths of New York but I couldn’t deny that I was missing the noise and chaos that New York radiated. 

I had found the ad online, a room to rent in a beautiful big white house on the outskirts of Memphis with large gardens and plenty of outdoor space to waste my life away in. My parents weren’t so sure that this was the best thing for me to do but New York had started to eat away at my soul and I needed the freedom, the cleaner air. 

The two women I lived with were nice enough, they provided conversation that was not entirely stimulating but I made do with their company. I enjoyed being whoever I wanted to be in this place, no-one knew me, they had no idea who Matty Prescott was. 

The night it happened was no different to any other evening in the house we shared, Taylor had spent the evening watching garbage reality TV in the living room whilst Yasmin was in the kitchen making dinner. I, on the other hand, had retreated to my room to read Harry Potter. It wasn’t exactly perhaps the most useful way to spend my time, but I had figured that I was making enough money from working at the bar down the road to sustain myself without having to call home to my parents and beg for money so I could spend my free time however the hell I liked… regardless of the fact that it certainly wasn’t furthering my career prospects.

There was a call from outside in the garden from Taylor, shouting her dog.

“Rudi!” I padded over to the window and sat down on the wooden box in front of it, pushing open the window. “It’s too hot to make me come looking for you.” Taylor said with a sigh. I’d been about to call out to her that Rudi would return home when he felt like it, but a man walked up the driveway, startling Taylor. 

“I am so Sorry didn't mean to to scare you.” He drawled in that typically Southern way, but there was something ever so slightly off about his accent that I couldn’t quite place. 

“Can I help you?” Taylor asked, her blonde eyebrows knitting together in a light frown, she wasn’t exactly the most hospitable of people at the best times, but even less so when she was waiting for dinner.   
“Yeah, my car ran out of gas a couple of miles back, I feel like I’ve been walking for hours, yours is the first house I’ve come to… so I was hoping I could use your phone?” The man asked. He wasn’t conventionally beautiful, but there was a charm about him that made him all the more attractive, regardless of his facial structure - which wasn’t all bad.  
“Don’t you have a cell phone?” Taylor asked, leaning all her weight onto her left side of her body, kinking one eyebrow at the man, apparently it couldn’t enter her head that God forbid anyone in the twenty first century could ever live without a cell phone.  
A light chuckle fell from the guy’s lips, “Huh, yeah,” He pulled the phone out of the back pocket of his jeans to show it to Taylor. “Battery died.” He waited a second before he spoke again, “Look, I promise i’m not a serial killer, I just wanna use your phone.” 

It took a moment before Taylor sighed, “Sure.”

“So… I can come in?” I didn’t like the smirk that was pulling itself across his features as he asked if he was allowed to enter our home, there was definitely something off about him - but apparently Taylor sensed that. 

“No, I’ll get the phone and I’ll bring it out to you.”  
“I thought you country folk were supposed to be more trusting.” The Southern drawl he had been sporting disappeared entirely, giving way to an English accent, so _that’s_ what had been off with the accent.

Taylor didn’t seem to notice this, or find it unusual as she scoffed and said, “I’m from Florida.”

“Well that explains it.” Something snapped in his attitude, and within the blink of an eye his hands where around Taylor’s neck, putting his face closer to Taylor’s he spoke again in a lower tone that I couldn’t quite make out.

It was at this moment that I decided to duck down from the window, cowardly, I know. But I couldn’t guarantee that this guy wasn’t a serial killer and I wasn’t about to be one of the victims too. I ran to my closet and threw myself inside it, desperately wishing that there was a lock on the door. I pulled a coat down from one of the hangers and pulled it over myself as I crouched in the darkest corner of the closet. I couldn’t hear exactly what was going on downstairs, but the moment I heard footsteps running down the hallway I knew that this was never going to end well. There were screams, confirming my suspicions and that’s exactly when everything fades to black. 

* * *

 

When I woke up, everything hurt. It was like I’d been on some crazy bender with several bottles of wine, but had absolutely no recollection of doing so - and no matter how drunk I’d been before in my life I normally remembered at least _some_ of it. I raised a hand to my forehead and sat bolt upright when I saw that it was covered in blood. 

Doesn’t every normal person panic at the sight of blood?

I was on the floor of my bedroom, and there was blood all over the carpet surrounding me. Was it mine? I checked over my body and couldn’t find a single wound which somehow didn’t make me feel any form of relief at all. I should’ve been happy that I wasn’t injured, but it just made me worry even more because now I couldn’t find any logical reason to explain the blood surrounding me. 

There was a yapping downstairs, Rudi. Guess he finally came home… but, Taylor. Where was Taylor?

I got to my feet and cringed at the pain the sunlight was inflicting on my retinas, and then I began to notice how hungry I was but I couldn’t quite place what it was I was hungry for. I thundered down the stairs only to be greeted by a man I didn’t know lounging against the doorframe like it was his own house that he was stood in. I vaguely remembered his face, but… oh, the night before. He was the man. Shit. 

“Um, what do you want?” I tried to make my voice sound as brave as I possibly could, perhaps it wasn’t a wise idea to come across as stand-offish in front of a serial killer but I didn’t want to be the damsel in distress type of victim if I was about to be made his next kill. 

“Hungry, love?” Was all he said, the accent was off-putting, what American girl could resist a British voice?

My face scrunched up into a confused frown at his question, why did he care if I was hungry or not when he was probably planning the best ways to rip out my innards. 

“Deflecting my question, I’d prefer if you answered it.” I crossed my arms over myself, I wasn’t sure if it was an attempt at self defence or trying to make myself seem irritated by his presence. Probably the former. 

He laughed, a tuneful sound. “Well, you and I are going to get along just fine with an attitude like that.” He started towards me, walking up the final two steps I hadn’t made it down so that he was stood right in front of me. 

“You might want to eat, well, drink first my dear.” He held a blood bag up in front of me, like the type that they use in hospitals to give blood transfusions. I was mesmerised by the blood, could barely tear my eyes away from it and I couldn’t understand why it was seeming so appealing to me. 

“That’s… th-that’s disgusting.” It took all my will-power to take my eyes off the blood bag and stare at him directly in his dark chocolate coloured eyes. 

He kinked an eyebrow at me and tried his best not to laugh, “Don’t lie, you can feel it drawing you to it.” I shook my head once, but said nothing, starting to panic that he really was going to kill me. Whose blood was that? Was it Taylor’s? Yasmin’s?

I didn’t have much of a choice when he shoved the opening of the blood bag into my mouth and began to squeeze it into my mouth. He shifted, pinning me against the wall so until I had no choice but to swallow the metallic liquid, which with each drop tasted more and more appetising. 

When he was satisfied that I had drank enough, barely even half of the bag, he let go of me and retreated down the staircase with a smug grin on his face. 

“What the hell dude?!” I wiped the trickle of blood running down my chin with the back of my hand and narrowed my eyes at him. 

He simply shrugged, “Perhaps I should introduce myself, darling. You can call me Klaus.” 

Did he expect me to tell him my name too and pretend like this wasn’t the absolute weirdest experience of my entire life? He’d already pinned me against a wall and forced me to drink blood, it seemed like we were past giving each other names. 

“Matilda, how very rude of you not to exchange the niceties.”

I growled in response, I hated people calling me my full name. “It’s Matty.” I demanded, making sure that the disgust lingered on my face for added effect. 

“Matilda will do just fine,” Klaus said, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he returned to his lounging position against the doorframe - with the front door wide open. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind coming with me, I can take you to a less blood-covered location minus bodies of your roommates.”  
“What? They’re dead? Who killed them?” I wasn’t leaving here until he gave me answers, in fact I didn’t really want to leave here with him at all. 

“My dear friend Stefan went a little… overboard.” It was hard to believe that it wasn’t him who had killed them with the smile that was settled across his lips. What kind of person takes pleasure in the fact that their so-called ‘friend’ killed other people? This Klaus guy was messed up, that’s for sure. 

“Why didn’t he kill me?”  
“Oh he did, but I made sure to slip you some of my blood beforehand.” 

This was all ridiculously confusing and it was making my head spin, I just wanted to close my eyes and be back in my bedroom in my parents house in New York away from all this madness. 

“I can explain this all later dear, now is not the time as I have a man to find and you’re taking too much time.” I barely even blinked and he was next to me, with an iron-type grip on my elbow. He fastened a pretty silver bracelet around my wrist and then was dragging me out of the house, away from the home I had lived in for the past few months and opened the door of a black 4x4 parked at the bottom of the drive. 

Taylor’s little dog Rudi scampered up to me, golden fluff matted with mud from a night spent in the wilderness. I opened my mouth to protest that I couldn’t leave him behind on his own but I needn’t bother, as Klaus picked him up and handed him to me before I could even request to take him with us. 

Rudi reached up to lick my face, I figured his way of saying thank you for not abandoning me to live with my deceased owner. So I settled into the back of the 4x4 without a word, the ball of golden fluff nestled in my arms as Klaus drove us away from everything I had ever known.

* * *

**A/N:** Hello! Hope you enjoyed this first chapter of Glory  & Gore! Matty was an OC that was made in an OC challenge on tumblr and I just instantly loved her and wanted to write her, I hope you love her as much as I do! Thank you for reading :-) 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

** SID **

Being a member of a founding family is exhausting. There’s all the founders parties which you have to behave ‘properly’ at, God forbid you have one too many glasses of champagne and vomit all over the Lockwood family cat at fifteen, because that is definitely frowned upon. Then there’s this general aura that seems to surround you whenever you’re out and about in Mystic Falls. Like, it’s not my fault that I was born a Powell okay? Sometimes I want so desperately to scream in the middle of the town that I’m tired of being noticed by every single inhabitant of this goddamn town. 

My mother named me Cressida. Yeah, Cressida. It reeks of pretension, doesn’t it? She hates that I shorten it to Sid, she says that it’s too beautiful a name to be tainted with the boyish nickname that I prefer. My best friend Calista shares my pain, her parents apparently wanted to make her sound fancy too. So we’re Cal and Sid, a couple of boys rebelling against their overly feminine names. 

Caroline Forbes is throwing a party tonight for Elena Gilbert - the pair of them are also members of founding families but apparently it doesn’t bother them half as much as it bothers me, lucky them. Either way, it’ll be nice to get horrifically drunk with my peers without my mother watching over me tutting and shaking her head as I stumble around having the time of my life. Honestly, I don’t know what that woman’s problem is - she needs to let loose, pull that stick out from where the sun doesn’t shine and live a little. I can guarantee the founders were probably all smoking opiates and having a great time, perhaps in secret but it most likely occurred. It was the 1800s after all. 

Senior year of high school, I could practically smell the freedom that was beckoning me in the form of college, if I graduated successfully of course, but there was little chance of that going horribly wrong, I have so much free time on my hands that all I do is spend time with Callie and do my homework. It’s a boring life, being reined in by your mother for fear that you might tarnish the respectable Powell family name. 

Gwendolyn Powell, my mother with yes, yet another pretentious kinda name, isn’t even a Powell by birth, in fact she came from a family that was far from pretentious, perhaps they read her name in a book somewhere and figured it would set her up for greater things and perhaps it did. Because she met my father and he was foolish enough to fall in love with her and marry her, finally giving her the status she had been spending her whole life wishing and hoping for and she would be damned if I didn’t play along to her fantasy life. 

What my darling mother hates the most about the precious Cressida who won’t play along with her life plans is that I was born with what she would call a curse, but what I have found to be a blessing. It turns out, the women from my father’s side of the family are witches - but no ordinary witches. Shapeshifters, or changelings. She traded her ‘fairytale’ lifestyle for a real life fairytale of sorts, never expecting that to gain the status she wanted she’d have to raise a daughter who could transform herself into any living thing she felt like being. 

My older sister Rowan wasn’t as ‘unlucky’ as I was, she is perfectly normal and falls into our mother’s idea of the perfect daughter. She behaves wonderfully, is talkative and smart at founding parties when she returns home from medical school to attend them. Rowan and I used to be the best of friends, she’d sometimes even play along in my constant attempts to irritate our mother until she was about thirteen and suddenly decided she was much too mature for that. 

“Sid, don’t you dare touch my orange juice. I wrote my name on it, it is mine and mine alone.” I turned around and raised my eyebrows at my little brother who was stood in the doorway with a frown on his face. Twelve years old and unbelievably clever, my little brother is sometimes the only thing that gets me through living in this hellhole. 

“Or what? You’ll chop my hands off? This isn’t medieval times, Wyatt.” I had no intention of drinking his orange juice anyway, he had clearly forgotten that I hate the stuff, but who doesn’t enjoy winding up their siblings?

Wyatt scowled at me and then left the room muttering how he was sick of this house being full of females. Our father, Frederick, was always holed away in the study if he was at home at all. Always working, always letting his wife rule the roost. I love my father dearly, but he can be a somewhat cowardly kind of man sometimes and I can’t honestly understand why he lets my mother boss him around the way she does. 

I heard the front door open, and took that as my cue to grab whatever looked most appetising from the fridge before scooping up my rucksack from the kitchen counter and heading out into the hallway to meet Callie who was stood lounging against the doorframe with her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail as she almost always had it. 

“Well good morning, Cressida.” Callie loved the sheer look on my face any time I heard my proper name, and lived to torment me with it.

“Right backatcha, Calista.” I said, scrunching my face up irritably at her to give her added satisfaction. 

* * *

 

Days at Mystic Falls High often felt as though they lasted a lifetime, but for the first time in forever this one actually flew by, it felt as though I’d blinked and ended up stood on the sidewalk waiting for Callie to show up so she could unlock her Jeep and drive us back to my house so we could start getting ready for Elena’s birthday party later. 

“It’s at the Salvatore house y’know.” Callie remarked as the car slowed to a halt at a stop sign. We’d been pretty much silent the whole way home up until she mentioned where the party would be taking place. The Salvatore brothers were dreamy, there was no denying that. They’d showed up over a year ago and Mystic Falls had been a much more attractive place ever since. Callie loved to torment me about an alleged crush I apparently had on the older brother, Damon. “You always like the mean ones.” She’d said, like it was a bad thing. “I”m hardly an overly nice person Cal, it makes sense that I’m attracted to similar minded people.” Had been my response, and then I had realised that I’d basically admitted to her that yes, Damon Salvatore plagued my thoughts in a most distracting and irritating way. 

“Oh, how interesting.” I said, trying to keep my voice as disinterested as I possibly could. Did that mean that Damon would be there? 

Callie only smirked, feeling as though she didn’t even need to push any further, she’d got the reaction she wanted and now she was smug. 

“Wipe that look off your face Calista Raven Lowe.” I demanded with a frown, I hated when she was right. She only laughed in response as we pulled into the driveway of my home. 

The Powell family home was elaborate, to say the least. A white house with actual pillars holding up the veranda that spread all the way around the house. Royal blue shutters, which were mostly decorative, they could be used but we never bothered. The gardens were tended by professionals, because of course because my precious mother couldn’t get a single speck of dirt on her hands. 

We made a stop at the kitchen, grabbing some chocolate and juice like five year olds to keep us going whilst we prepared ourselves for the evening ahead.

Dumping my rucksack down on the armchair in the corner of the room I broke off a few squares of chocolate before heading over to the closet to begin searching for something to wear for the evening. I pulled out a black dress, one that my mother would certainly deem too short to be seen in public in so naturally, it was definitely the right choice for the night. I turned, holding it up against myself awaiting Callie’s judgement. She looked up from the drawer full of makeup she was rifling through - my mother’s attempt to make me more of a ‘girly girl’ - and grinned devilishly. 

“It’s perfect. Gwen will have kittens.”   
We rummaged around in my closet for another five minutes until we found a dark red dress that suited Callie much more than it’d ever suited me, of course. 

“You’ll have to keep that now, I never want to wear it again after seeing it on you.” I pretended to be irritated, but it was hard to even fake the irritation. 

* * *

 

It took some convincing, but I managed to convince my father to take twenty minutes out of his beloved study to drop us off at the party, it didn’t even cross my mind to attempt to ask my mother if she’d take us because I knew she’d refuse to until I changed my outfit of course. 

By the time we’d arrived there was already loud music emitting from the grand Salvatore boarding house and almost every single person I had ever seen from junior and senior year of Mystic Falls High had apparently been invited. 

“Well hold onto your hats boys, this is one large party.” Callie said, her devilish grin had reappeared and it was almost becoming a permanent feature on her face.

“Okay, so you go find Eth, and I’ll go find us drinks and we shall meet back here in ten yeah?” We always had a plan when we arrived at parties, I’d scope the place out whilst finding us drinks and Callie would do some scoping of her own whilst looking for any of our friends - most likely, Ethan Demonski. He was the only other person in our year that could actually be considered a proper friend, really. 

We nodded to each other and split in different directions once we stepped over the threshold into the house. There were people everywhere, and almost every five seconds someone bumped into me which only made me want a drink even more. “You’d think people could look where they were walking,” I muttered to myself under my breath, pushing my way toward the kitchen as a starting point for my alcohol search. The kitchen was just as full, which made me think that there certainly wasn’t any alcohol left to be had in here. 

A pretty blonde across the counter flashed me a brilliant smile, Caroline Forbes. 

“Hey Sid!” She chimed cheerfully, I could never understand how that girl always seemed to be so full of sunshine and happiness, I had a sneaking suspicion that it couldn’t be kept up twenty-four-seven but I had yet to see her in anything less than a mediocre level of happy mood. 

“Hi Caroline, don’t suppose you know where the alcohol is being kept in this joint do you?” I asked, she had organised the party after all. 

“Sure,” She grinned, “but don’t tell anyone I let you have something from the secret stash.” She glanced around her immediate surroundings and ducked into the cupboard below, pulling out a bottle of peach schnapps and pushing it across the counter towards me. “Guard it with your life,” She joked before she mumbled something about finding Tyler Lockwood and disappeared out of the kitchen which had now pretty much emptied out. 

I was about to leave the room to go back to the meeting spot to find Callie but when I turned around there was a tall dark haired man stood in the doorway with a smirk on his features. 

“Dear old Caroline may have you under the impression that what you have in your hands is the good stuff, but trust me, it isn’t.” He drawled, leaning against the doorframe and looking down at the bottle of bourbon in his hand. “This,” He held the bottle up a little and shook it, the smirk growing impossibly more alluring “is the good stuff.”

I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Damon Salvatore was stood in his kitchen, actually talking to me. If Callie was in the room I could almost guarantee that she would be rolling around on the floor gleefully at how obvious it was that I had spent far too much time daydreaming about him. 

“Well, that stuff seems a little too… strong, for me.” I shrugged, before realising perhaps it was uncool to reveal to him just how much of a lightweight I was. For the few years I’d started to be around alcohol, a shot of vodka here and there was about the strongest thing I’d ever had and I didn’t think myself a whiskey or bourbon type. 

He chuckled, a low, beautiful sound. “You’d soon get used to it.” He said with a shrug, opening the lid and taking a gulp straight from the bottle. “Cressida Powell, right?”

I cringed at the use of ‘Cressida’, “Sid, actually.” Hang on, how did he know my name? I mean perhaps he’d know I was a Powell fair enough but to know which one of them I was… fascinating. 

“Sorry, Sid.” He nodded his head and pushed off from the doorframe, taking a few steps to close the distance between us. 

To say that I didn’t have a complete handle on my abilities was perhaps an understatement, I’d never been allowed to really practice them. Despite my desperate pleas for my mother to let me go visit my cousin and aunt in New York, the only other living people in our family with the same abilities, for the chance to learn how to control them she was yet to give in and let me go. 

So when Damon entered dangerously close territory I felt it start, a tingling that started in my toes before spreading upwards across my whole body as it began to morph into something else. 

Damon’s icy eyes widened as he took a step back, his eyebrows knitting together in a confused frown. “What the hell?” 

I looked down at myself and rolled my eyes, I’d turned into Callie because I’d been thinking about how hilarious she would’ve found the situation. I closed my eyes and tried to reimagine the feeling, and luckily it worked as I felt myself change back. 

I knew what Damon was, every founding family knew about vampires and my parents couldn’t leave that information out when we discovered that I too was not normal. 

“Uh, sorry, uncontrollable… witchy things.” I couldn’t think of how to describe what had just happened, I wasn’t supposed to tell any vampire what I was - I had been warned explicitly by my parents that people didn’t know about our kind and that it was to stay that way. 

I raised my hand to begin the spell I had been taught to wipe a memory, it was a spell I had performed enough times to make me ashamed. But Damon raised his hand and caught mine in it, the look of confusion had faded into curiosity. 

“What are you?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly, “And what made you think I know anything about witches.”  
I rolled my blue eyes at him, “I know what you are, Damon.” He still had hold of my hand, and it was making me nervous. I could handle myself against a vampire I was pretty sure of that, but it didn’t look as though I was in any danger of being attacked. He let go of my hand and frowned again, just as Callie appeared in the doorway with Ethan. 

“Si- oh, oh sorry.” She smirked, backing away from the doorway with her hands held up in the air. I shook my head at her and took a step away from Damon.  
“Hey guys, I was just about to come looking for you.” I said with a smile, showing them the bottle of schnapps in my hand. Damon smiled ever so slightly before taking another drink from the bottle in his own hand, and as I went to walk past him to the door I made sure to whisper, knowing he could hear, “Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Oh don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me, Sid.” He said when I reached the doorway, Callie and Ethan having already turned and set off towards the rest of the party-goers in the living room. 

I turned and offered him a grateful smile before I left, knowing that I would have to explain eventually, or erase the memory that he’d ever met me. But erasing myself from his mind was something I was more than reluctant to do.

* * *

** A/N:  ** Here is chapter 2 for Glory & Gore, told from the second main character's (Sid) point of view! I'm quite enjoying writing in first person, it's not something I've done very often! So thanks for reading, as usual! x   


 


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